


Anger

by grassyplain



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Heavy Angst, Kings & Queens, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 23:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17273168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassyplain/pseuds/grassyplain
Summary: What happens when Sam is captured by the Queen Alanna herself, and forced to become her loyal servant.





	Anger

I fucking hated her. I saw her, smirking as she entered my room.

“Throwing a little temper tantrum?” said the Queen, with her beautifully cruel face and her high bun.

“Don’t you have any other better fucking thing to do than to annoy me, you bitch?” I said, throwing stationary at her stupid face. 

“I’d watch your language, little girl.” she said, smirking.

I didn’t have time for these games today. “You better fucking watch your stupid fucking face!” I shouted, “You think that because you’re the queen, and I’m the slave, that you can…”

She grabs me by the collar, smirking as she smashes me into the wall. “Yes. I can. I have every right because you’re mine. You’re our kingdom’s little soldier, and you will be instrumental to our success.”

I growl. “Go to hell!” I said, grabbing onto her dress and ripping it. I flipped the position. “Why couldn’t you just leave me at home?” I could feel the anger burning in my eyes and she looked at me, smirking.

I pushed her into the wall, wrapping my hands around her small, delicate, throat. “I’ve got my hands around your wrinkly throat, bitch.” I said, squeezing harder, feeling bits of anger release in satisfaction.

“You have the emotional capacity of a two-year old.” spits out the queen, her perfect brown bun falling to pieces. “Perhaps even less. Do you only know anger?”

“SHUT UP!” I said, squeezing even harder. 

“I have a whole file on you. Even your mother knew you had anger issues. Punching walls, throwing objects…”

I felt my grip falter. She took that moment to get out of my grasp. “Even so, your anger is beautiful,” she said, using the moment to slam me into my bed post. “Pure, unfiltered anger,” she said with awe. 

“You sick freak! I’m not going to help you pick off your enemies!” I snarled, grabbing the queen.

“GUARDS!” screamed the queen.’

“Oh, calling back up because you can’t control your protege?” I growled. “I’ll kill each and every one of them. I’ll fucking rip their throats apart!” I felt my anger flare.

She smiles. “Do it.”

The guards rush in, and I strike, using my anger like a double-edged sword, quickly striking every man down.

They were knocked out in seconds.

“SAM! STOP!” screamed Alex, running into my room.

I ignored her.

“SAM!” she said. “Your anger is making you blind! You’ve just committed treason!”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I said. “You’re goody-two-shoes, princess material. I can’t control myself. This is who I am. One fucking ball of anger.”

“Genevieve. Constrain her.”

She nodded, quickly grabbing me and tying me down in my blind rage.

“Leave us.” said the queen. 

“She won’t come to any more harm than she deserves.” commanded Alex.

“Of course, daughter.” smiled the queen sweetly. “I won’t do that to her. She just needs to be put back into her place.”

Alex nods. “I’m sorry, Sam.” she said, before leaving. 

Once she leaves, the queen smiles. “Isn’t my child noble?” 

I ignore the queen. 

“Answer me.” said the queen. 

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“Get up.” she said, her tone changing abruptly.

I stand up, knowing that I pushed too far, somewhere in recesses of my mind. 

“So now you’re going to be obedient?” she said. “It’s far too late for that. You’ve harmed the queen, called her horrible names, committed a list of treasons punishable by DEATH.”

She pushed me towards the chamber in my rooms that she specifically built for this purpose. 

“FUCK YOU!” I spat, deciding that if I was going to die, I was going to fight till the end.

“How many?” she said, getting out her whip from the cabinet after she tied me up, pushing me into the restraints.

“I don’t care. Kill me. I’d rather die than serve you.” I said into the wall.

I didn’t expect her whip to have teeth. Teeth that were imbued with a poison that burned like hell.

“1.” she said, cracking her whip against my back.

I refused to scream, too proud to bow down.

“I’ll stop when you say sorry.” she said. 

“2.” 

I felt fire racing down the whole of my back, as I felt tears stream down my face in pain, me pulling on my restraints so hard, I felt it digging into my skin with a vengeance.

“3.” 

I screamed, sobbing. I couldn’t do it anymore.

“4.” The queen didn’t leave enough space for me to do anything but scream in pain, tears cascading down my face. 

“5.”

I blacked out. 

When I woke up again, I was in the infirmary, attended to by a woman with porcelain skin, and dark brown hair.

“Weak.” said the Queen, when I woke up. “You almost died from five lashes. Want more?”

I felt pathetic in the way that even in my half-asleep state, I squirmed, trying to say no, no, no! NO! 

I blacked out again.

I finally woke up again, and the moment I did, I vowed never to have any emotion ever again. 

I would be like a rock. And that way, I would be untouchable.

“Why did you push her?” said Alex, brushing my hair back. “Why did you push her so far? I’ve never seen her so enraged.”

I have, I tried to answer. She’s tortured me a couple times. But never this bad, I tried to say. I blacked out again.

I vaguely remember somebody splashing me with something, and me screaming, except that my throat was already so raw, that all that came out was nothing. 

“HOLD HER DOWN!” screamed some woman.

I saw blonde hair. “I’m sorry.”

I finally awoke, for real, the Queen tapping on my shoulder. “Awake, my small heathen.”

So that’s who I was, now?

I gasped, sitting up. It was the middle of the night, the infirmary was completely dark. 

“How long have I been here?”

“A day.” said some woman. “Don’t move. Your stitches are fragile.”

“Screw that.” I said, standing up. “I have to go back to my room.”

“And why is that?”

I ignored the woman, running past her, and into the hall, wandering around.

I got into my room, and a note was already awaiting on my bed, a face that would haunt me on my drawer. “Your mission, tomorrow. Or your family, gone.”

I cried, finally giving up.

I gave up. I would do the mission. I swallowed my nausea, and headed out, taking two things; a motorcycle and a small knife. I already knew everything about this man. I was briefed two days previously. It wouldn’t be hard for me to find him.

It was quick. I was standing over him, and I swallowed my nausea, watching the sleeping man from the shadows. The thin, fragile piece of life that I would take away. I closed my eyes. Moments later, I was back at the castle.

The queen was waiting for me. All she did was smile widely.

I threw up, once I got into my room. Dry heaved, and then sat in the bathtub, feeling the guilt overtake me. 

I fulfilled seven more assignments.

I avoided everyone, now. Like a ghost, I melted into the background, eating less, fighting harder, training harder, feeling less. If I was less of a human and more of a machine it would be easier. If I was less of a human, everything would be easier. 

Nevermind the millions of lives endangered after I slowly picked off governments.

Nevermind the pain caused when I set fire to the capitol. 

Nevermind everything. There was nothing.

The queen had nothing to say anymore. I was her perfect little-nothing. Just a ghost of the girl who was once there. I didn’t do anything else, anyways. Just trained, and when I didn’t train, I was finishing assignments.

I never failed. In fact, the world seemed to be in awe at the massive destruction. I even got a new name. Little heathen.

It was a year later, when Alex finally found me.

“Sam.” she said. “Sam.”

I paid her no attention, focusing only on the target in front of me.

“Sam.” she said. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” I said. 

“Stop… everything!” she said. “You’ve turned into a ghost!”

“Sounds fun.” I said, slinking away again. 

She stopped me. “What happened? What happened to the happy angry girl I used to know?”

“Ask your mother.” I said, a trace of my old anger appearing in my voice. I swallowed, working to control myself. “I have to go.”

“Look at me.” she said, touching me gently. I wanted to collapse into her. But I couldn’t be that weak. 

“Stop.” I said, shoving her back. She looked surprised. 

“Okay. Let’s spar then.” she said.

“Fine.” I said.

From that moment on, she became my training partner, appearing everyday to train with me.

I didn’t mind her presence, I guess. But I could feel it slowly melting my stone heart, one I vowed to create the moment I woke up in the infirmary. 

I didn’t even think you could melt a stone heart. 

I cracked one night. 

I had a nightmare, the men and women of all who I had killed, resurrecting from the ground. “Monster…” they growled, looking at me. “Heartless monster.”

I couldn’t get it out of my head for the whole day.

The Queen was in my room, giving me one more assignment, looking at me with disdain as I attempted to just nod, and accept the assignment.

But instead, I started sobbing. 

Suddenly every emotion from last year hit me, all the sadness, the pain, the anger.

“I FUCKING HATE ALL OF THIS!” 

The Queen smiled. “There’s my little heathen.” she said, brushing my hair back as she sat me back down on my bed.

“What the FUCK do you mean?” I said, angry, sobbing. “You wanted me to kill all those people.”

“Yes. But I also loved your ferocity, your anger, your passion…” she said, smiling. I looked up at her, her smiling cruelly.

“You liked seeing me suffer.” I said. “Well, good job, because you’re getting more than enough of it tonight.” I stood up, wiping my eyes, sobbing silently. “Please leave.”

The queen sat down. “Sam.”

“I killed all those people because you wanted me to! I’ve done everything you’ve ever wanted! Why can’t you just follow my one simple request?”

“Sam… all those assignments. I’m sorry. I needed you to do it because I couldn’t be the one to save the world. That was always your job. I just needed to guide you.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” I said.

“You helped stop a war. You’ve saved multiple countries from all-out anarchy. Our world is reaching a golden age.”

She hands me a magazine article.

“You’re lying.” I said. “You’re just trying to manipulate me.”

“Read it.” she said, gently. 

“You used me.”

“You had the anger. I pointed it in the right direction.”

“You’re 27?” I said.

“Yeah. I semi-adopted Alex.” 

Everything seemed so janky. Suddenly, everything wasn’t looking so bad. “You’re a good person.” i said. “Why did you…”

“I’m sorry.” she said, hugging me. “I’m truly sorry for using you this way. I had to break you, and play the role of the bad queen, to break you down so I could point you in the right direction.”

“I…” I fell back, and turned around. “Get out.”

“You’re done. No more deaths. Your role is over in this war.”

“And what about you?” I said.

“A queen has no rest.” she smiled sadly, after tucking me in. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

I fell asleep, plagued by more nightmares. 

The next morning, I woke up, trained, and wandered around. I was already bored.

I walked in on the queen, who was working. She bit her pen, concentrated, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Need help?” I said, walking over. “I’ve decided I don’t hate you. I think I’ll forgive you.”

She dropped her pen. “Have dinner with me, tonight.”

“Alright.” I said. Then I plopped myself down and read a book in the corner of her room.

It became a routine. Wake up, train, sit in her office, or accompany the queen, eat dinner, sleep. Sometimes, I would go out and perform my own missions, silently heading off somewhere to silently help the Queen, based on her reports. 

The nightmares were still a daily occurence. One afternoon, after a particularly bad night, I fell asleep in her office.

“Monster…” the dream-dead whispered.

“SAM!” said someone. “SAM WAKE UP!” 

I was sobbing. 

“You still get nightmares?” said the Queen, who was hugging me in my arm chair. 

“I… sometimes.” She looked at me. “Daily. I get them daily.”

“I’m sorry.” she said, looking at me sadly. “I did this to you.”

“I’m fine.” I said, pushing her off. “It’s okay.”

“I should’ve noticed your eyebags…” the Queen said, suddenly leading me out of her office. “Come.”

I followed her, all the way into her personal chambers. “Sleep here.” She pushed me onto her soft bed, and then hugged me tightly. “I’m due for a nap, anyways.”

“Okay.” I said. 

I didn’t get nightmares.

One day, I was rambling on about something, when she stopped me. “Sam. You’ve been on missions?”

I looked away. “Maybe.”

“I told you that you were done.”

“I can’t just not do anything!” I said. “I want to help! I’m more than skilled!”

She looked at me suddenly, biting her lip. The Queen kissed me. I responded enthusiastically, kneading my hand in the Queen’s blonde hair. 

“My little heathen,” she said, smiling at me.

I was breathless. “That was kinda fun.” 

“Wanna do it again?” she said.

I smiled. 


End file.
